


the garden that you planted

by tesselations



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Timeline, Happy Ending, M/M, Other, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 17:04:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3142079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tesselations/pseuds/tesselations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tamaki doesn't stay. In his absence, Kyouya is forced to tend his garden. The days go by, too quickly and too slowly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the garden that you planted

**Author's Note:**

> anime-compliant, some things might not be entirely correct.

1.

Sometimes things don’t go exactly as planned. Maybe Haruhi was just a few seconds too late, or the sun didn’t light up her determined eyes quite right. Maybe Éclair’s grip was too firm, or Tamaki was too soft. Maybe it was because Haruhi never fell in the water, and Tamaki never lept after her. 

“Maybe” didn’t mean anything when Tamaki didn’t come home.

The weeks after Tamaki’s departure move too quickly and too slowly. The door is locked when the twins come to the music room after class, half-hopeful and half-dreading. Hikaru twists hard on the knob but nothing gives, and with tears in his eyes, he kicks the door once before letting Kaoru lead him away. Mori and Hani come to the door as well, but when the door doesn’t push open, Mori lifts Hani back onto his shoulders so they can leave the way they came. From where he sits, he can’t see Hani’s expression; it does nothing to soften the blow. 

Haruhi didn’t mean to come. She knew he was gone it was just—was a force of habit, she tells herself. She rests one hand on the door, and thinks she imagines the sound of china clinking and paper ruffling inside. When she walks home, there is a glint of light in the window.

Kyouya falls asleep by the window of the music room like he has three days in a row now. His glasses are slipping off of his face, his cellphone on the table in front of him. Next to it sits an empty saucer of tea, across from him an empty seat. 

One time he sits down at the piano. He splays his fingers across the keys, a weak mockery of how Tamaki’s hands looked when he played, but he doesn’t move a finger. He sits like that for what feels like hours.

Finally, he stands and slams the piano closed. It’s old and expensive and he can’t bring himself to care. It doesn’t matter to him who plays it next. 

The weeks pass. Hikaru rages while Kaoru watches him break cups and vases, and Haruhi doesn’t bother defending Tamaki to him. They will heal. They all will. She takes tea with Hani, who brews it too sweet. Kyouya doesn’t come, but an unmarked box of sweets does. Mori helps her with her groceries one day, she is glad to see him after so long, and tears prick her eyes when she realizes it. She sees Kyouya in the halls -– he retreats back into himself, his smiles cool and impersonal. It makes Haruhi want to hit him. 

Kyoya doesn’t go straight home after classes now. He stays in the third music room, now silent, and goes through all of his work. By the time the sky is red, he is researching stocks and sending e-mails. It is dark when he finally clicks his laptop closed and calls his driver. He keeps the lights dim as he paces the room and waters the potted roses. He hasn’t cancelled the regular flower shipments yet, though he cannot justify the waste. 

The moon is out when he locks the door behind him, and the car ride home is so quiet now. 

2.

Graduation happens, and everyone is there. There is sunshine, flowers, girls in white dresses. Hani cries on everybody. The twins are exuberant and despondent in turns, a flash of bitterness on Hikaru’s tongue when he says, “It seems like everyone’s leaving.” Haruhi clenches one of her fists, her other hand is covered by a larger, firmer hand. A stable hand. Mori looks her evenly in the eye; when he graduates, she kisses him on the cheek.

Tamaki would have thrown a fit if he knew. 

Kasanoda brings Mori flowers he grew. Rengei cries, loud and unafraid, into the handkerchief he offers her. Kyouya brings Hani and Mori gifts—expensive, yet restrained, they scream “Ohtori” and beg for business. His smile is real though, which is rare enough these days. He wishes them good luck.

Later that day, they both receive roses and boxes delivered to their doors by bashful Ohtori police force members. Inside there are photos of the club members together, photos worth thousands, and a note: _He was always better at presents than I._

Mori, at least, would have to disagree. Hani stills waits for Tamaki’s present, though he never says a word. 

3.

The summer after that graduation is long and hot. Kyouya works with his father’s company during the day and trades stocks during the evenings. Most of the hosts keep in touch, and Kyouya keeps tabs on all of them, writes everything in a sleek notebook after all his other work is done.

 _Mori is taking care of Haruhi,_ he writes, _and is a perfect gentleman. Kaoru and Hikaru have not completely withdrawn into themselves, and so their popularity with the young ladies has not decreased._ As if it mattered. He pauses writing, gripping his pen a little too tightly. The room is a little too warm. _Haruhi has a summer job, and everyone knows better than to tell the school. Her father confirms that their finances are sufficient..._ it goes on. Every thing he can think of, he writes.

Finally, drained, he lays back on his bed. The room is much too hot to sleep, and the scent of roses drifts in through the window—he brought Tamaki’s flowers back home, every pot. He drifts off as the sun creeps over the horizon, and dreams of nothing at all.

He speaks with Haruhi more often now, takes her out for expensive dinners she would never have had the chance to enjoy otherwise. She walks with less sway in her hips than when they first met, but she is so lovely. She seems to have forgiven him for-- something. They eat in companionable silence, and Kyouya knows his father approves. 

Sometimes Kyouya takes tea with one of the twins—Kaoru more than Hikaru, he is quieter, more cunning. Kyouya teaches him how to observe people, ignoring Kaoru's razor sharp eyes on him. 

"Have you spoken to Tono?" he asks, only once. Kyouya's jaw stiffens, they never discuss it again.

He sees Hani and Mori rarely. Rengei comes over unannounced one day. On a whim, he takes her to a concert, she brazenly discusses possible host club schemes and he indulges her belief that the show will go on. It isn't entirely unpleasant, but she doesn’t appreciate the music at all.

The days pass too quickly and too slowly. At the end of summer, Kyouya sends the notebook to France.

4.  
It is the second week of classes when Kyouya receives the phone call. It’s 2 am, and even without checking his phone, he knows who it is.

He wants to hurl his phone against the wall. He wants to clutch it to his chest.

He does neither. Instead, he gives himself a moment to recover from the surprise, before he clicks it open and replies smoothly and impersonally. He can do this.

“Mon ami?” croaks Tamaki from the other end, and Kyoya grips the phone too-tightly. 

“Tamaki?” he asks, and then he hangs up.

Tamaki calls again, and Kyouya is angry at himself for picking up at all. Perhaps if he had let the phone ring, let it fade into silence, then… this could have done the same.

He picks up anyway. 

“I’m sorry,” Tamaki says. No floral declarations. No grandiose apologies. His voice sounds hoarse. Kyouya doesn’t say anything, so Tamaki continues, “How are they?”

Kyouya tells him everything. How Haruhi spends more time with the twins now, and Kasanoda, surprisingly enough. The classes they are in, the plans they have. He tells Tamaki what Hani and Mori are doing, Tamaki nods

“I got the graduation invitation,” he admits. Kyouya’s jaw tightens.

“It’s not an issue. They understand, tickets from Paris are expensive, your time is valuable—“

“How are you,” Tamaki cuts in. Kyouya stays quiet.

“I bought out the company her family was going to buy out. They won’t be able to take over after that, from your family or mine, for a while at least,” he says. Tamaki is silent, and on an impulse, Kyouya rushes ahead, “I gave it back to my father, anonymously. He knows it too.”

There is a whuff of air on the other end.

“I’m sure he hated that,” Tamaki chuckles, and Kyouya catches himself smiling. 

“I think he blames it on you,” he says. Tamaki is silent for a while.

“I’m sorry,” he finally repeats. “That I didn’t leave sooner. That I made you do the club. I never meant to make him angry with you.” The air leaves Kyouya’s lungs faster than he could ever imagine. Tamaki continues,

“I wish I hadn’t taken Haruhi away from her studies. She has a scholarship to maintain and I nearly ruined that. I hope she can forgive me.” Kyouya grits his teeth.

“You idiot,” he hisses. “She wanted you back. She came to you. You should have ran off with her then.” 

“Why didn’t you come?” Tamaki asked.

“What?”

“Never mind, it’s… It’s good to know that you are all well.” Kyouya nearly snarls. Tamaki, even in sadness, even in distance, always pushes his buttons.

“Haruhi skipped breakfast for a month after you left. Ranka-san was concerned. The twins still stop by the music room when they think no one is watching. Hani left Usa-chan behind for college. Mori never writes. I sent Haruhi to get you because I thought that she, of all people, would make you want to come back, and I—they needed you to come back,” Kyouya says, all in one breath, only breaking once, his voice level.

Tamaki is silent for a very long time.

“Did you water my roses?” he asks. Kyouya lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Every day.”

 

__

-al coda-

When Tamaki comes home, Kyouya is not in his room. The maid leads him out to the gardens, where Kyouya stands, lean and lanky, his hands scratched up and dirt under his nails, freshly planted rosebushes in a row by his side. Tamaki reaches a hand out, but Kyouya withdraws.

"I'm covered in mud," he says, so Tamaki takes both his hands and kisses his palms.


End file.
